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It seems to do the trick, because one corner of her mouth flicks up briefly and gives me the slightest hint of satisfaction.
Orabelle eventually drifts over and takes a seat at our table. For the first time since she was born, she’s completely silent, staring off into space and hardly acknowledging our existence. I don’t press her or attempt to tease her like I normally would, but simply let her sit close to avoid being alone.
The minutes drag by slowly as the room grows more crowded. Most people take seats at the tables throughout the hall, while a few opt to huddle in the middle of the space. Zenobios slips in through a side door and drifts into one of the dim corners where he remains, unmoving. I’m surprised he showed up at all, considering his aversion to crowds. At least he’s trying to be cooperative. That’s better than most days.
After an agonizingly long wait, or at least, it feels that way due to the incessant whispers drifting around the hall, Lizette and Oryx arrive. I gently nudge Irissa’s leg with my knee and gesture in their direction with a tip of my horns.
“There she is,” I say. “You can stop worrying now.”
As expected, Irissa’s face lights up when she sees Lizette hurrying to our table, and the tension constricting her body lessens.
“Thank the gods you’re all right,” Irissa breathes, hopping to her feet to throw her arms around her maid.
It’s strange by Ulleh standards for a royal to touch, much less hug, a servant, and they catch a few curious looks from those standing nearby. However, she doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“Yes, we’re fine,” Lizette says, taking a seat next to Irissa at the table.
Oryx joins us, slipping into the chair between Orabelle and me, before clapping a heavy hand on my shoulder. “We leave for an hour, and everything goes to hell, I see.”
“Apparently.” I nod and keep my voice low. “You two were probably safer than any of us, being outside the castle. Did they fetch you and tell you to return?”
“Nah. We just got back. Took a while for us to find anyone, and they directed us this way. What do we know?”
I quickly fill him in on everything Father said, not worrying about Orabelle overhearing. Judging by how severely her eyes are glossed over, I doubt she’s listening anyway.
Oryx whistles softly through his teeth. “Damn. What are we going to do?”
I shrug, at a complete loss for an answer. Being the heir to the throne, I should have an idea of what should be done. Had this happened during my reign, the responsibility of deciding how we should proceed would fall on my shoulders. It’s impossible to know what you’ll do in a situation until you face it, and even then, there’s a chance you won’t be prepared. Like now.
Even though I’ve beat around ideas multiple times as we’ve sat here waiting, I don’t know what can be done, besides increasing security and doubling precautionary measures that are already in place.
Aside from that, how else can we fight an invisible enemy?
Poison could come from anywhere at any time, and if there’s no way to detect it, there’s no foolproof way to prevent it. The horrific truth turns my stomach, and acid climbs up my throat. Despite fooling myself into believing I’m ready to rule, this situation proves that I’m painfully underequipped for the job. It’s a difficult truth to face.
“I’m not sure,” I admit, dropping my gaze to my clasped hands.
I’ve never been so unsure of anything in my life.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Irissa
An antidote.
Lizette and I agree immediately that we need one, at least for peace of mind, so we get started on it the very next day. However, we don’t have enough ingredients to make a big batch. We also don’t know whether a general antidote will work because we don’t know exactly what kind of poison was used. It’s a guessing game–one with a lot of variables–but having something on hand is better than nothing at all.
“How much will this make?” I ask, staring down at her.
She’s sitting in the middle of her bedroom floor, surrounded by a collection of glass bottles. Her favorite spellbook is propped open on her lap, and a squat pewter pot sits in front of her. I’ve taken to pacing the room to avoid getting in her way, stopping near her occasionally to watch her work.
“Enough for seven people. Maybe eight if we can stretch it.” She frowns and opens one of the tiny glass vials, shaking a tiny mound of dry, crushed leaves into her palm.
Eight people. That’s enough for Lizette, Nor, Oryx, his sisters, the king, the queen, and me.
Sorry, Zenobios.
If there’s one person we have to skimp on saving, it’s him, and I don’t think anyone would disagree. It’s a harsh truth, but in life or death situations, hard decisions are sometimes necessary. He rarely eats with the royal family anyway, so if he ate dinner elsewhere and died, there’s no telling how long it would take for anyone to find him.
